Savage Love (Back Down Devil MC #7)(14)

Miller turned and left the kitchen. Ella felt her stomach twist in pain. She wanted to throw up. The front door opened and shut, softly, Miller showing care for baby Beck upstairs sleeping.

That’s when Ella was finally able to burst into tears.

Miller’s words ran through her mind.

And if you’re ever not okay, darling, you call me.

“I’m not okay,” Ella said. “Fuck, I’m not okay at all.”





seven.



Miller put his hands to the wall, letting the hot water run down his back. He stared down at his cock, admiring the hand wrapped tight around his shaft, pumping him. Blood red nails racing up and back. He felt a set of tits bouncing against his back, another hand touching his waist, nails playfully digging at his skin.

“Oh, you’re so f*cking big and full,” she said.

“Don’t say that shit to me,” Miller said. “Ever.”

Her hand moved faster, harder. Miller felt himself ready to go. He put his head back and made fists, pressing them against the wall. When he started to come, he thrust forward, grunting with each pulse of his dick.

He needed the f*cking release. That’s all it was. Shooting it all out of his body, that goddamn feeling that Ella had kicked up. Putting his f*cking hand to her tit? He had come so close to f*cking kissing her right there on the spot. Christ. Miller hadn’t expected the wild fire to still be burning after all those years, but it was.

Miller looked down again and watched the woman stroke him slower and slower. Squeezing at the tip of his dick, getting every last droplet out of his body.

After he was done, she kept going. Playing. Pressing her tits to his back harder. Yeah, she wanted hers now.

Miller grabbed the woman’s wrist and pulled her hand away from him.

“Get out,” he ordered.

“What?”

“Get the f*ck out of the shower. Out of my room.”

“Are you serious?”

Miller stood tall and looked back. “Do I look like I’m f*cking joking about anything right now?”

The woman stood there, naked, a nice set of tits, flat stomach, shaved everything. She was a dream standing there. Wet, wild, ready to do anything Miller wanted.

“Out,” he growled.

“What if I say no? I’ll stand here and touch myself until you can’t resist me.”

Miller turned. The woman stepped back. She put her hands to the wall. She stuck her chest out. Lifting her left leg, she put her foot to the edge of the shower, showing off her wet center.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Take it out on me. Anything, Miller. Just anything.”

Miller lunged at her, his hands grabbing her waist.

“Yes!” she cried out.

Miller put his nose to her neck. As he took a breath, he knew it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same. This woman wasn’t Ella.

Fuck.

Miller then lifted the woman and pushed her out of the shower.

“I said out!” he growled. “Out! Right f*cking now.”

The woman stood outside the shower, eventually grabbing a towel and walking to the door.

Miller opened the curtain. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Go find Blaine,” he said. “He’ll take care of you. You want nasty shit, go. Now. And I don’t ever want to see you in this clubhouse again.”

“Fuck you.”

The woman slammed the door shut behind her.

Miller finished his shower, got dressed, and crashed to his bed for the night.

The sleep was needed even if it didn’t bring Miller a clear head the next morning.

When he got out to the main part of the clubhouse, he saw the remains of a long and wild night. Two prospects were behind the bar, cleaning things up. Miller nodded, they nodded back, and no words were needed.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, Miller left the clubhouse. It was another bright and sunny day in Frelen. Half the people out there were gearing up for another normal day of their lives. The others were split between struggling to survive and the damn tourists coming to enjoy the beach and little hidden gems of restaurants. All of which Miller carried on his back to keep it that way. If this all got built up…

Miller heard a whimpering cry. He put his coffee mug down and ran to the side of the building. He took out his gun.

“What next?” he whispered.

He moved along the side of the building, listening.

The whimpering continued. It was getting closer.

Miller turned the corner, gun drawn. He opened his mouth to say or scream or maybe just f*cking shoot.

But he didn’t need to do any of that.

It was just Blaine. With a woman.

Blaine standing with his back against the wall of the clubhouse. One hand was reached around and down some woman’s pants, obvious what he was doing. His other hand was at her mouth, two of his fingers in her mouth. She slobbered all over them as she whimpered.

When Blaine looked at Miller, he smiled and then shrugged his shoulders.

Miller raised an eyebrow.

Blaine turned a little to show that the woman had one of her hands in his jeans.

As Miller left the scene behind, the woman still letting out whimpers, he normally would have smiled. But this time he didn’t. His mind raced back to Ella. Maybe it had been a mistake to go check on her because it lingered on him. She seemed okay, right? She had a house, a kid, a little life for herself. Yeah, when shit hit the fan with Jerry, everything would completely change. That’s when Miller could swoop in and save the day. Unless Jerry used Ella for something in all this. Used her as bait. Or collateral.